The Dreadhead Laying in Bed, Watching CNN, and Eating Ice Cream

Much going on. I leave for Atlanta today. But the last 2 days have been all the right conversations at the right time I think.

I called Jay in Germany. And he was in classic Jay fashion. First, he was in bed watching CNN in his new bohemian digs in Cologne. I could see him clearing his dreadlocks from his head, and we did our proverbial lick over the phone (you really had to be there for the birth of that ritual between us). Jay is like my childhood friend by some supersonic soulmate machine. We did not spend our childhoods together, but when he talks about working on Broadway with Gregory Hines, getting reviews for shows, learning the cakewalk for a show, witnessing the AIDS pandemic, etc . . . I feel like I have that big brother I never had . . . but in our own special way "LICK!" (and we ain't f*cking!, just to let you know. But he knows enough sh*t to blackmail me if I ever get elected Senator from Tn.).

I wanted to recreate the conversation for you, but I am afraid that I have waited too long and I do not have time to recreate it. But here are some highlights.


Conversation Excerpt I

Jay in the city of hot and ass in the air German boys: I am watching this mining thing on CNN

Littlemilk in the land of Dixie: Yeah it makes me sick.

Jay: It is just stupid Americans: "Look at us, we pulled them all out. They are alive." Overly optimistic in all situations and then getting things wrong.

Littlemilk: Yeah. (I forgot that in Germany people do have this feeling about America, and the longer you stay there you get infected by German Realism and Pessimism. I have been out of the loop for some time concerning that perspective on life.).

Jay: So when are you coming home to Europe?

Littlemilk: Gotta get some insurance. (Little tears form in the side of my ducts. You have to meet the people I lived with to understand. Many black artist are there that just had to get out of the states. Some for reasons concerning family. Others because of sexuality. I think mine was a deep disappointment in my life in NYC and the people that should have been my mentors. For Jay, no idea. I think it was just a gig for him. You build a life seperate from what you know, and after a while, you crave it. That is immigration, migration, leaving home, etc . . . Right now I am learning about returning home as an everyday way of life, not an abstract black home with greens and black peas falling out of the sky and the bottom of every cornbread skillet burning the bottom just right. I used to write about that. But that was my NYC Southern Act, born out of youth and reflection. Home is now more the experience and excepting the limits of a place . . . I am getting too philosophical again . . . back to sex and German beer. )

Jay: Are you getting your dick sucked?

Littlemilk: No, not really.

Jay: What!

Littlemilk: Well . . .

Jay: YOU ARE SLEEPING WITH GIRLS AGAIN, AREN'T YOU?! (Sigh)

Littlemilk: Well, I meet this woman . . . (Note: I get this sh*t from my straight friends and from my gay friends. It is like I am falling into some bad habit. Gays think that it is an identity crisis and I should somehow leave those girls alone. The straights think that I have just been hurt by girls and I am just messing around with boys because I am used to it . . . but that is only when the straight friend realizes that their is a difference between a bottom and a top. If they think I am taking it up the ass, then I get a condesending attitude that I am somehow not really a man. That I should sit and talk about shoes and lipstick and can't be invited to play soccer. )

Jay: . . . (Interupting) Well, I am loving Cologne.

There is more to this conversation, but more than I have space and time to talk about here. I love Jay because he is practical. I asked him to send me good spiritual energy to get me out of here. He told me, "If you can't generate that by yourself by now, then what makes you think I am going to waste my energy on you. It is about me this year." Hard truth. I love Jay.

Jay was also concerned about my insulin pump and the tub coming out of my stomach. It is serious and not that serious. But I think that it put somethings into perspective for him, though I guess my choice or words was too dramatic. It did sound worse than it is in a way, but for non-diabetics that just run around the world doing whatever they want without having to manage a machine coming out of their stomaches I imagine it can sound a bit crazy. But he did say that he cared in so many words. I have not heard that from many people in the past year at all. I forgot that people ever saw that struggle in me. But that is partly my fault because I am always trying to hide it.

I sent him information on the Augsburg Zoo Exhibition in Germany and some other things that he wanted me to give him. He reminded me that in our little bohemia that we created in 2004 that I was cresended the Intellectual. Jay is a singer and a dancer. He plays in a musical in Germany now. He is f*cking great. Especially when he is tortured by laser beams and dies at the end of the first act.

But he has a steady job with insurance.